


Touch

by SgurrDearg



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 17:31:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10392138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SgurrDearg/pseuds/SgurrDearg
Summary: Cassandra was perfectly happy working for the Inquisition in peace and quiet. Just doing her duty. Unfortunately, she's starting to find that hard to concentrate on. As she gets to know the Inquisitor better, she finds herself wanting to spend a lot more time doing so, much to her annoyance.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [h0neyedpeach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/h0neyedpeach/gifts).



  The sun filtered through the trees, dappling the ground with soft light. The ground was wet with dew under Cassandra’s bare feet as she walked down to the river. The banks had been cleared of demons the day before, when they had closed the breach nearest to the camp. She noted with satisfaction that it remained safe.

  The crack of a branch underfoot- not hers- broke her morning reverie. As she followed the riverbank around, she found herself face to face with the Inquisitor. Her golden-brown tresses were damp, soaking her shirt and dripping onto the grass. She smiled when she saw Cassandra.

  “Morning! Going for a bathe?”

  Cassandra nodded.

  “It’s a fine day for it. Bracing. Glad we got a camp so close to some fresh water at last, I’m taking advantage of it as much as I can.”

  She flashed another smile at Cassandra, who merely responded with a “so I see” before walking on. She stripped off and stepped into the river.

  The Inquisitor, Bronwen, was always so cheerful. Too cheerful, she sometimes thought. Especially in the morning. It wasn’t annoying, so much as it appeared that she didn’t take anything seriously. Only the night before, when Cassandra had suggested scouting for any lingering wraiths, Bronwen had replied that there was no need. She’d smirked and said that if there were any, it would make for good ghost stories later. Cassandra had gone anyway.

  She scrubbed at her body with a piece of hard soap as she grumbled to herself. The Inquisitor so far had proven to be a competent leader. She had made good use of her previous society connections in the Free Marches. At Skyhold, she spent more time liaising with nobles at Josephine’s behest than anything else, but she still found time to check on everyone. So far, she’d helped bring in a lot of money and kept the Inquisition stable.

  Cassandra dunked her head under the water, washing the soap from her neck as she tried to remind herself of those facts. If only she weren’t so flippant all the time.

 

***

 

   The walls of Skyhold loomed over the courtyard as noon approached. It was quiet, but for the sounds of clinking cutlery and bustle from the tavern. Even the armoury had paused in its usual din. The lack of a crowd made for a perfect afternoon, Cassandra thought. She’d gotten a few novels in their recent trip to Val Royeaux that she really didn’t want to be public knowledge. She could enjoy the smuttiest one in solitude and fresh air at last.

 “Want me to put you through your paces?”

  Cassandra blinked and looked up from her book. Bronwen grinned at her, her brown eyes dark with mischief.

  “Sorry, did I disturb you?” She didn’t look sorry.

  Cassandra snapped the book shut and threw it behind her seat. “No. I wasn’t doing anything at all. What did you want?”

  That smirk stayed on her lips. “I wanted to get a little combat practice in. Wondered if you fancied a spar? Of course, if you’re busy…” Her eyes darted to where the book lay in the grass.

  “No. I’m not busy. I was just reading over reports. I can do it later. Let me- let me put them somewhere safe and I’ll return to do some training.”

  Bronwen was waiting by the training dummies when Cassandra got back. She had one of her daggers unsheathed already and was examining it closely, a slight frown etched on her forehead. She didn’t appear to notice Cassandra’s return.

  “Ahem.” Cassandra coughed to get her attention.

  Bronwen caught her eye. “Oh good. Thought you’d gotten distracted by those reports.” she gripped the dagger in her right hand and unsheathed the other. “They seem to be riveting stuff. Can’t be any of the reports thrown my way yet, then.”  She raised an eyebrow at her.

  A shiver ran through Cassandra’s spine. She fiddled with the hilt of her sword. Whatever reaction she just had was odd. Probably just down to the scenes she’d just been reading. Nothing more. Lady Serena had just been about to kiss the stable boy after all. Anyone would react strongly after waiting fourteen chapters for that.

  She gripped her sword and walked over to the Inquisitor. “I didn’t think you were the kind of person who would enjoy any of the paperwork involved.”

  Bronwyn laughed. “That’s fair. Although, it’s only partially true. I enjoy the reports Sera’s been at first. Nothing livens up a rundown of military operations than a badly drawn arse.”

  “I should think that the seriousness of the situation should make it lively enough.”

  “I see enough of that in the field, actually.”

  Cassandra looked at her. Bronwyn had stepped forward to meet her, but in that moment her eyes had lost their characteristic warmth and her smile had faltered.

  “Inquisitor, I-“

  “It’s fine. Time to spar?” With a shake of her hair, she seemed to return to normal. She stretched back onto her toes, ready to strike.

  “Of course.”

 

***

 

  Cassandra replayed the afternoon’s events in her head that evening, over and over. Had she gotten the Inquisitor so wrong? Images of her leaning against walls, always making some sort of witty remark- always with that smirk- flashed in her mind. She hadn’t meant to insinuate that Bronwen didn’t care about the role, exactly. Was that even how she had taken it? She’d probably forgotten about it by now.

  What was more concerning was that… reaction… to the look Bronwen had given her about the book. It… made her smile, remembering it. She’d probably been found out. Which she wouldn’t normally enjoy. The Tevinter already had a field day teasing her about Varric’s books. But somehow there almost seemed a gleam of comradery in that look? Why would she want that? Ugh. Tomorrow she would go apologise to the Inquisitor. That would fix it all. If not, she could always punch a tree.

 

***

 

  Knocking on the door of the Inquisitor’s quarters seemed so daunting suddenly. Cassandra had been there before, had even helped Bronwen move new bedding in. She bit her lip and banged on the door, a bit more forceful than she’d meant to. Oh well. Several castle walls were still in ruins. Bronwen could probably cope with a slight dent in her door.

  There was no answer.

  “Inquisitor?” Cassandra called. A shuffling sound came in response. She knocked again, even more forcefully this time.

  “Alright, alright. Hang on!”

  After a few minutes, Bronwen opened the door. Her hair was tousled, and her honey brown eyes were bleary. She was in her usual uniform, albeit a very crumpled one. She held the door open and gestured for Cassandra to enter.

  Stepping into the room, Cassandra saw that Bronwen’s shirt was unbuttoned more than usual. She averted her eyes and tried to ignore the growing heat in her cheeks as they walked up the stairs together in silence.

  “Inquisitor…” Cassandra started, once they’d reached the top of the staircase, “…did you sleep in your clothes?”

  Bronwen gave a soft chuckle. “Does it show?”

  “Ah, I… Yes. Is everything alright?”

  “Oh, fine. Just happens sometimes. I don’t always feel tired, so I try to catch up on reports or do some reading. Then I wake up and find myself at my desk. Usually I can tidy myself up before anyone sees. You caught me today.” She winked at Cassandra as she grabbed a coat from the back of a chair and threw it over her shoulders.

  Cassandra smiled before she could stop herself.

  “So... what can I do for you? I hope it’s nothing that needs me to think too hard. You might want to come back in an hour or two if it is. With tea.”

  “Nothing like that. I wanted to apologise to you. I was… unfair in my judgement of you. It is not up to me to tell you how to do your job as Inquisitor, and I should not judge you for how you choose to deal with it, either.”

  Cassandra looked at Bronwen, and held her gaze. Despite their tiredness, her eyes seemed as warm as ever. She patted Cassandra’s arm, sending shockwaves running down it. Her hand rested there, the touch as warm as the smile in her eyes.

  “It’s fine. I’m just not as secretive as you when it comes to relaxing and having fun, that’s all.” She grinned and removed her hand from Cassandra’s arm.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do I mean? Well, I don’t go throwing books around do I? Some way to treat important Inquisition business…”

  Cassandra shifted. “Oh, that. That… was just a story book.”

  Bronwen raised an eyebrow.

  “A smutty romance novel. That’s all.” Cassandra sighed. “I like them.” She avoided Bronwen’s gaze, all too aware of her smirk. Too aware that she might blush if she caught a glance of it. Maker help her, she was acting like a schoolgirl.

  “Are they any good?”

  “Are they-? ...No. Not always.”

  Bronwen laughed again. “Lend me one some time?”

  Cassandra looked at her. There was no hint of mockery in her voice now.

  “I’ll bring you one this week. If you don’t tell anyone about where you got it.”

  Bronwen tapped her freckled nose. “Our little secret. Besides, I might not fall asleep so easily if I’m reading something steamy.”

  An image of Bronwen in her half-unbuttoned shirt reading one of Cassandra’s favourite books appeared in her imagination. It was not an unpleasant thought.

  Almost as if she knew what Cassandra was thinking, she added, “I should probably just read in bed at night instead of my desk anyway. Ruins my clothes.” She huffed, wandering over to her dresser and started pulling out a fresh shirt and trousers.

  “I should let you dress. I’ve taken enough of your time this morning. Inquisitor- thank you. I will bring you some books when I get another moment. Let me know if you need anything.” Cassandra turned and hurried down the stairs without a backward glance. Her fingers hesitated over the door handle as she opened it, and left.

 

***

 

  They had ridden south to the Hinterlands again. Bronwen had asked Cassandra to come along, to help clear out a few remaining rifts. She was standing by her horse talking to Solas, her hands on her hips. Cassandra watched as she raised a hand to take her hair out of its clasp, the brown curls bouncing and spilling over her shoulders. She caught herself before she became too lost, and turned back to the tent she’d been setting up before hammering in the last few pins.

  It had been a fortnight since she had visited Bronwen that morning. She had felt compelled to see her again as soon as she could, and brought several novels later that afternoon. Once or twice Bronwen would find her in a quiet moment and make comments about the characters. It felt nice. It was nice to talk about the stories she enjoyed with someone. It was nice to spend time with Bronwen.

  Cassandra found herself laughing at Bronwen’s little remarks and jokes now. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, exactly. It seemed like a sudden change, but when she thought back over the past two weeks it was hard to say when it had started. She enjoyed her company.

  She crawled inside the newly erected tent and unfurled her bedroll. She had just pulled her flask from her bag when something hard hit her in the back. She whirled around to find a book lying open on the ground and Bronwen crouched in front of the tent opening, grinning from ear to ear.

  “I thought you didn’t throw books around?”

  “I learned from the best.”

  Cassandra picked up the errant missile and examined the cover. “’The Last Rose’…I haven’t read this one…”

  “No. It’s new. Varric happened to mention some of his competitors one evening, so I asked him to get me copies. Just happened to mention what a fan I was of the genre.”

  “Are you?”

  “I enjoy them. But I got hold of them for you. There’s more on the way, but that should tide you over for now. Not much time to kill in the field.”

  Cassandra clutched the book close. “Thank you, Bronwen.” Her name felt strange on her tongue. It was the first time she had used it instead of her title. It seemed very informal, too informal.

  “It’s fine, Cassandra.” Bronwen smiled at her with eyes gleaming. Cassandra thought she caught a glimpse of something like triumph there. She couldn’t tell any more. A giddy feeling clouded her thinking as she looked down at the book.

  “Are you eating with us? Scout Harding’s going to cook up a stew in a bit.”

  “Yes. I need to restock my supplies. I won’t read until I know I’m not needed.”

  Taking care with her gift, Cassandra laid the book beside her bedroll and crawled out of the tent. Her arm brushed past Bronwen’s leg as she exited. Steadying herself, she stood up.

 

***

 

  The following afternoon was spent less peacefully. They had been successful in closing two rifts, but had attracted some unwanted attention from the carta who apparently had a stronghold in the area.

  Cassandra ran her sword through the last member of the group who had ambushed them. She turned back to the rest of the party. Sera had run out from the patch of trees she had been shooting from to loot the bodies, while Solas watched with a concerned look on his face. She followed the direction he was facing and saw Bronwen limping towards them from a few feet away.

  Her legs carried her over to the Inquisitor’s side before she realised she was running.

  “Bronwen! Are you alright? Do you need healing?” Terror gripped her as she looked over Bronwen, who was clutching her right side.

  Bronwen smiled wryly. “I’m ok. Just a scratch, really.”

  She lifted her hand to show where a blade had managed to slice through a weak point in her armour. The wound was bleeding, but even Cassandra could tell it was quite shallow and would be easy to heal. Still, her heart continued to beat rapidly at the sight of it.

  “Can you walk?”

  “Walked over here, didn’t I?”

  Cassandra sighed.

  “Don’t look so worried. Come on, I'll lean on you if it’ll make you feel better.” Bronwen slipped her left arm around Cassandra’s waist before she could protest.

  She felt warm against Cassandra, even through their combined layers of armour. Cassandra wrapped her arm around Bronwen’s shoulder to support her. Bronwen leant into her, her head fitting neatly below Cassandra’s chin. Her hair tickled Cassandra’s lips as she looked down at her.

  They walked together back to camp, after Solas had managed to heal most of the cut. Despite Bronwen being healed enough to walk alone, Cassandra stayed close.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  Bronwen chuckled. “I’m fine, Cassandra. Really. I could have fought a hundred more bandits in that state.” She ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes. She looked tired.

  “I don’t think so. Not if you were getting sloppy and letting yourself get hit like that. You should train more.”

  Bronwen’s eyes snapped open. “With you?”

  “Oh… well, yes. We could train together again. I would like that.” Her cheeks reddened as she spoke.

  Bronwen smiled in response. As they neared the camp her pace slowed to a dawdle.

  “When we get back I’ll need to write up what we recovered. And let Solas check my wound. And be hounded by that bloody requisitions officer.” She sighed.

  “You’re tired.”

  “Let’s not go back yet. We can play hooky.”

  Cassandra was about to protest, but seeing Bronwen look so wan made her agree. She sat down on a fallen log and watched as Bronwen perched next to her. She seemed to have perked up already. Just a little. She wrapped her arms around her legs and breathed out.

  “The role is a lot for you.” Cassandra stated, more than asked.

  “It’s fine,” Bronwen caught sight of Cassandra’s face and laughed quietly. “Yes. It gets tiring. I don’t want to burden anyone, though. It’s my job.”

  “That you didn’t ask for.”

  “True. But that’s life. I’ll be fine. I just need a breather.”

  Cassandra looked again at the Inquisitor’s tired face. She was filled with a surge of admiration for her. She really didn’t complain, never seriously. She always tried her best to be cheerful and positive, even when she clearly didn’t like a lot of the work she had to do. She did a good job. Cassandra felt like a fool for not noticing it earlier. Bronwen was so good. She should be happy. Properly happy.

  “You could get one of us to do the field reports.”

  “Well that’s an idea. I thought I was supposed to take the job seriously? You won’t like it when Sera hands in all my reports with scribbled bees all over them.”

  “I was too harsh on you-“

  Bronwen patted Cassandra’s knee, cutting her off. “You apologised already. And you’re right, I should delegate more. Might even get time for some sleep.”

  “You said you don’t feel tired that often.” She watched with a pang of sorrow as Bronwen removed her hand from Cassandra’s leg.

  “I didn’t want you to think I was overstretched. I want to help. Really, I do. I didn’t want you to feel I was letting you down.”

  “You’ve been an asset to the Inquisition. I’m sure nobody thinks otherwise.”

  “I meant you, specifically.”

  “Me?” Cassandra turned to face Bronwen, who was playing with a lock of her hair and looking at the floor.

  “It should have been you leading the Inquisition. I always felt bad taking it from you. And…”

  Cassandra’s heart thumped in her chest. “We had that conversation before, too. You took nothing from me. And…”

  Bronwen looked up. Their eyes met.

  “…I always thought you didn’t like me. I… wanted you to like me. Silly, I know.” Bronwen rested her hand on the log, in the space between them.

  “I admit, I found you annoying at times. You talk too much in the mornings. But I… like you.”

  The words hung in the air, amplified by the silence that followed.

  Cassandra looked at the log, at Bronwen’s hand, just a touch away. Her heart still drumming out a tattoo, she reached out and squeezed her hand. It was soft, not as calloused as her own, and smaller. Bronwen laced her fingers through hers and squeezed back. They smiled at each other, Bronwen with a bashful smile Cassandra had never seen before.

  Bronwen reached up with her other hand and touched Cassandra’s burning cheek. She leaned in, and kissed her. Gently, at first, her hand still caressing Cassandra’s cheek. Cassandra pulled her hair back from her face before kissing her back, this time with fervour.

  “I don’t want to go back to the camp just yet,” she murmured.

  Bronwen laughed. “Me neither…”


End file.
